


Sharing is Caring (and hazardous to my health because I'm in love with you?)

by Rozjozbrod



Category: AOS - Fandom, Agents of SHIELD - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, fitzsimmons - Fandom
Genre: Academy!Fitzsimmons, Canon Compliant, Clothes Sharing, F/M, Science, can I tag this true fukkin love because I did, nerd, pining? What pining, silly nerd fitzsimmons, true fukkin love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozjozbrod/pseuds/Rozjozbrod
Summary: Fitz is surprised one day to see Jemma wearing something of his in the lab. Some friendly bickering with just a hint of pining ensues. Academy!fitzsimmons, science-ing, being dorky (gosh I love my nerds) etc. And it should be noted that Fitz is highkey in love with Simmons in this. Ya. It's pretty short if u just wanna be hit with some quick feels. :)





	Sharing is Caring (and hazardous to my health because I'm in love with you?)

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments because they fuel my fire yo so just like anything u wanna say just say it (unless it's mean. If it's mean keep it to yo damn self) also if you wanna find me on the good ol tumble just check out @rozjozbrod :))

There were upsides and downsides to having a best friend like Jemma Simmons. On the one hand, she was exceedingly kind and endlessly inquisitive and her intellectual pursuits thrilled and inspired her, inspiring him as well to be the best student he could be. She met all challenges with unflinching kindness and empathy, and frequently was so observant that others fidgeted around her for fear that she might uncover some long-hidden secret of theirs. He spent half of his time by her side being utterly enthralled by everything she said and did, and the other half trying desperately to earn his place to work beside her. Though he was not prone to outbursts of metaphor nor poetry, there was no scientific way to describe how her smile lit up entire lecture halls and how his skin danced when she touched him. 

Which was, of course, a downside to having a best friend like Jemma Simmons. He cursed himself for not managing to find a nice, quiet, friend to spend time with; he just had to find the most awe-inspiring girl on the face of the planet. He followed in her wake, trying not to fall in love with her every second of the day. And it was proving to be a more difficult task than he’d previously assumed. For one day, when he walked into their shared lab with his arms laden with books and equipment, he saw her bent over a microscope wearing something that he never could have dreamed up, and his thoughts promptly lost all coherence and order. 

“Simmons?” He sputtered, his hands slipping on the heavy box he carried. 

“Oh, hi Fitz. Is that the new transceiver Agent Weaver ordered?” She asked, not even looking up.

His neck was flushing as he looked at her, and he shook his head to clear it. “What? Oh, yeah it’s just arrived.”

Only then did she look up at him, flicking her brown hair over her shoulder and giving him a full view of her outfit. “Well, bring it here. It won’t assemble itself.”

He swallowed and nodded, trying not to look. Ever the professional, Jemma didn’t seem fazed at all by her ensemble, nor his reaction to it. But when he reached her side and put down the box, he found his mouth was betraying him and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Is that my tie?” He blurted out, ears reddening.

“What?” She said, a little too innocently.

“You’re wearing my tie.”

She glanced down at her outfit, an outfit that definitely included his dark blue tie, and smirked. The tie was hanging over an elegant floral button-down, and paired with a matching blue blazer in true Jemma Simmons style. As she considered a proper response, she shifted her weight between her Doc Marten boots, and cocked her head. When she spoke, her voice was light and cheerful. “I suppose it is, isn’t it? Now, about this transceiver . . . I think if we calibrate it correctly-”

“Why are you wearing my tie?” He asked, unsure as to why he was so curious.

She shrugged her shoulders and said, meekly, “I thought it was cute.”

He sputtered. “Cute? I’ve never been so insulted in my life-”

“It’s a compliment! Especially considering what you usually wear-” She said, raising an eyebrow and giving him a once-over, her eyes lingering on his plaid shirt with a different color plaid tie. 

Frowning and mumbling incoherently, he looked at himself. “Wha-what’s that supposed to mean?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, but looking amused all the same. “Really, Fitz? Clashing plaids? You might as well add argyle socks and clown shoes-”

“I’ll have you know that you should never insult a Scotsman’s plaid.” He joked, crossing his arms and pretending to look stern.

She smiled and laughed at that, looking as radiant as the spring, and he almost blurted out that she could keep the tie if she wanted. Instead, he bit his lip and told himself not to fall in love with her for the upteenth time that day.

“If you wanted, I could take you shopping-” She started, her eyes lightening up at the prospect, taking her tongue between her teeth and nodding enthusiastically at him. 

Dread filled his lungs. “No. Simmons, I’m not kidding. No shopping. Please.”

She laughed again and he cracked a smile. A moment later, she sighed and her fingers went to her neck as she began to loosen the garment. 

“Okay, you win. I should have asked to borrow your tie. You can have it back-”

“No.” He said, quickly. “It looks better on you anyway.”

Her fingers froze and for a second she looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh. Thank you.” Her voice was quieter.

He blanched and grimaced, rushing to clarify himself. “In a scientific sort of way. You know, symmetrically speaking. And, you know, lots of women wear ties. Like, uh-”

“Thank you, Fitz.” She smiled at him, successfully stopping his train wreck of a sentence, and then their eyes met.

There were brief moments, moments like these, where Fitz and Simmons shared the kind of looks that made every cell in Fitz’s body feel like it was suspended in amber. It was a look that was overflowing with softness and far too gentle on his part to ever be a look that two best friends should share. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “So. The transceiver-”

“I had a thought.” She said, stepping closer and voice rising in excitement. “What if we could use the principles of fractal geometry-”

“To make it more compact?” He finished for her.

“I was thinking about all the wires that agents use in the field. If we could figure out a way to make a smaller transceiver-” She began.

“They’d be easier to use, for sure.” He said, mind already racing. “More energy efficient too, probably.”

She nodded and bounced on the heels of her feet, waiting for his decision. He looked back at her. “Excellent idea, Simmons.”

She glowed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll start drawing up the plans for the smaller transceiver. You figure out-”

“The parameters for size and density?” She confirmed.

“Exactly.”

They bustled to work next to each other, and as she bent over the table, his tie swung over her work and he snickered.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. Just as long as you know that I’m going to borrow your bright pink tie tomorrow.”

She laughed and they spent the rest of the afternoon engaged in companionable arguments about the various merits of this and that. Dimly, as he calculated and as Jemma talked, Fitz thought that his initial prognosis had been wrong; there was no downside to a friendship with Jemma Simmons.


End file.
